Consequences of Deception (28 page)

I am tense all over by the time he enters the room about twenty minutes later, but I can’t force myself to relax. I am just barely keeping the hysteria at bay, so I figure that I am doing the best that I can.

I want to scream when he crawls into the bed and pulls me into his arms, so I pretend to ‘wake up’. Looking at him isn’t an option, so I rub at my eyes and look around the room.

“Are you feeling okay, princess? You look pale.”

Oh, I’ll just bet I do. Deciding to use it to my advantage, I shake my head.

“No, actually. I feel awful. My head is killing me.”

I dare to look at him for one second, and the look of concern on his face turns my stomach. Jumping up from the bed, I run to the bathroom and slam the door behind me, just making it to the toilet before I start throwing up.

I start to cry when I feel him behind me, rubbing my shoulders and back soothingly as I continue vomiting. Shaking his hand off of me as I reach up to flush the toilet I say, “You can go. I don’t want to get you sick. I’m fine.”

“Princess, you aren’t getting rid of me. If you’re sick, I want to be here. I don’t care if you get me sick too. I love you.”

The words coming out of his mouth make me sick again, and I wretch violently into the toilet as I pray to God that I’ll wake up and find that this has all been a horrible nightmare.

As soon as I stop vomiting, I try to get him to leave. “Please,” I whimper. “I am uncomfortable with you seeing me like this and it’s making it harder. Just go.”

“Fine, but I’ll be right out in the bedroom if you need me. Anything that you need, just call my name.”

Right now I need him to get the fuck out of the bathroom before he makes me throw up again from hearing his lies.

Nodding my head, I assure him that if I need something, I’ll tell him. The second he leaves the bathroom I throw up again. When I’m finished, I set my head on the toilet seat and cry my eyes out until finally there is nothing left.

When I’m sure that I’m not going to throw up anymore, I stand up and go to the shower. Turning all of the showerheads on as hot as I can stand it, I slide down the wall and sit in the corner shaking.

I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, but Killian frantically knocking on the door calling my name and telling me he’s coming back in brings me back.

“I’m alright,” I call out. “I’m in the shower and I didn’t hear you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Forcing myself to stand, I go to wash my hair only to realize that it is still up in my wedding style. My hands shake as I pull all of the pins out and set them on the shower bench seat, and I force myself not to think about how happy I was just twenty-four hours ago.

When I am finished showering and brushing my teeth, I school my features to project something other than agony before I open the door to the bedroom. Naturally, Killian is standing right there.

“Fuck, princess, are you okay? Should I call a doctor? Tell me what you need.”

Giving him a fake smile, I walk over to the bed and climb in. “I think I just need to rest,” I assure him. “I guess I have the flu or something. I feel better now but I am going to go back to sleep for a while if that’s okay.”

He nods at me as if this is a great idea, then climbs into the bed next to me and pulls me into his arms. “Go to sleep, princess. I’ve got you.”

Pretending that he’s not here, I force myself to go back to sleep.

By late afternoon yesterday, I had a plan. Obviously I need to get out of here, talk to Demi, and find out what exactly is going on. Realizing that Killian was never going to let me out of the hotel room as long as he believed that I was sick, I had a miraculous recovery around dinnertime.

I babbled happily to him- albeit totally being a fake happy- about wanting to go to see my college advisor today to set up the fall semester. He agreed that if I was feeling okay today, I could take my car and go.

This morning when he woke up, I was already up and dressed. I acted as normal as humanly possible as he gave me the keys to my car, and I even responded enthusiastically when he gave me a “belated” wedding present—an iPhone. I was also given several platinum credit cards and told to spend to my heart’s desire. It took everything I had not to start vomiting again because the bastard probably plans to give me a bill once our ‘marriage’ is over.

Late last night, I realized that we mustn’t even really be married. There is no way he would have married me without a pre-nup, so it’s obvious now that the Pastor was a fake and the whole ceremony was a sham. He got one over on me with that, and my only source of consolation is that I’m leaving before he throws me out. The jig is up, and I’m out of here with my head held high.

I force myself not to scream, cry or vomit when he kisses me deeply as we’re waiting for the valet to pull my car up. I return the kiss with all the enthusiasm I can muster, which isn’t much. Right now, I am Robot Wife, just putting one foot in front of the other until I am away from him.

Running his fingers over my face, he frowns. “Princess, you seem off. Are you sure that you’re feeling okay? Maybe going to register for classes today is a bad idea. You were so sick yesterday...”

I look up to see what’s caused him to stop talking and I find that he’s holding my hand with a frown.

“You’re not wearing your rings.”

As. Fucking. If.
I’ll die before I put that bullshit back on my hand.

“Crap,” I say innocently. “I’m such a ditz sometimes! I forgot to put them back on after I got out of the shower this morning. Don’t worry, as soon as I get back from the college, I’ll put them right back on.”

Over my dead body.

I’m never coming back and those rings can go back to the fucking store or into the Pacific Ocean as far as I’m concerned.

“No! I don’t want you going anywhere without your rings. Wait here, I’ll go get them for you. I want everyone to know that you’re taken.”

If he keeps this up, I’m going to start vomiting again.

“Okay, I’ll wait down here and play with the seat in my car and get to know the controls while you go get the rings. They’re on the glass shelf above the sink.”

Smiling at me, he nods. “Alright. By the time I get back down Adam will have pulled up. Just tell him that you’re waiting for me.”

Damn, damn, damn. I forgot about the goddamn security team. Security my ass—I see now what they really are—prison guards to Killian’s role as my warden.

“Alright, I’ll let him know.”

Looking around, I see that Adam hasn’t pulled up yet. The second that Killian walks away from me and gets into the lobby, I jump into the Range Rover and peel out. I put my seatbelt on as I’m driving, and I go as fast as humanly possible. Once I’m absolutely certain that I’m not being followed, I find a parking garage and pull in.

Picking up my newly acquired iPhone, I dial Demi’s number.

“Hello?”

“Dem, it’s me.”

“Hey whore, what’s the score?”

That’s all it takes for me to start tearing up, and I choke back tears as I try to answer her.

“Sloane! What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Swallowing hard, I pinch my arm and force myself to calm down.

“I heard you yesterday in my hotel room saying that Killian lied to me when he told me that my inheritance was gone. I faked him out until this morning and then I left.”

Letting out a harsh breath she yells, “What do you mean you
left
?”

“I mean I got into my car and drove away, and I am never going back there. I don’t ever want to see him again as long as I live. All the things he lied about… Jesus Demi, we aren’t even really married! He let me believe that he loved me but this was all a lie!”

“Stop it! You
are
married. Where is your security team?”

“Ditched them. I don’t need those jailers.”

“No! Sloane, listen to me. You need to go back! You don’t understand…”

It’s like being hit in the stomach. Of all the people in the world, I never would have believed that he could get to Demi.

“There is no way that the Demi Tate I know and love would tell me to go back to that lying piece of shit. He got to you! He’s trying to ruin my fucking life! He’s taken everything… everything!”

“He didn’t get me, Slo! He really should have explained this… I knew you were going to freak out. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

Disconnecting the call, I bang my fists on the steering wheel and let out a frustrated scream. How did he get Demi onto his side? Why did he do all of this? What is the point? I need answers, goddammit!

Mid freak out, I realize that in order to get information, I need to go to Uncle Stephen and find out what actually happened the day that he sold me to Killian. My course of action decided, I put my car into gear and head for Stephen’s house.

It takes me about twenty minutes to get to Stephen and Celine’s house and when I arrive, I don’t bother ringing the doorbell. Pressing the code for entry, I open the door and walk right into the house that was essentially my prison for four and a half years.

After a quick search of the main floor, I head up the stairs to Stephen’s office wing. As expected, he’s at his desk on the computer. Walking right in, I slam the door behind me.

When he looks up and sees me, his eyes go wide and he loses all the color in his face. “Jesus Sloane,” he whispers, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Glaring at him I snap, “I’m here for some fucking answers, Stephen. I think that you owe me that much, at the very least.”

Shaking his head frantically as he jumps up from his chair, he gestures to the door. “You have to leave,
now
. Get out of this house.”

“Goddammit,” I yell, “You owe me an explanation and I’m not leaving until I get it!”

He’s on me in a flash, shoving his hand over my mouth. Panicking that he’s getting physical with me, I struggle and kick as I try my hardest to get away from him. He fights to get control of me, and in the shuffle my elbow slams against the wall with a thud. I scream out in pain, kicking at his shins. “Get off of me you asshole!”

He grabs me again and covers my mouth as he looks directly at me for the first time in what feels like forever. “You need to go, Slo! This isn’t a joke. Where the fuck is your…”

I smell her putrid perfume the second the office door swings open. Turning towards the door, I see Celine walking in with a gun in her hand.

“Well, well, well, look who’s back.” Gesturing at Stephen with the gun she snaps, “Back away from the little bitch.”

Dropping his hand from my mouth, he follows her instruction. Crossing the room, he stands next to her. “Not in the house, Celi. We can’t have this shit here.”

Giving him a glare she snaps, “Of course not in the house, moron. I know what I’m doing.”

Eyes trained on me, Celine waves the gun as she glares at me. “You difficult little bitch. Where the fuck have you been?”

I am so freaked out by the gun that no words are coming out of my mouth.

“If you don’t answer me right now, I’m going to blow your fucking head off.”

Sick to my stomach I talk around the bubble of fear that has taken up residence in my throat.

“Killian. I was with Killian.”

She smiles at that, an evil look that gives me the chills. “I know that you were with Killian, stupid. He told us that he gave you a job, but wouldn’t give any other details. My question is, where the fuck have you been and what were you doing this entire time?”

When I don’t immediately answer, she waves the gun as a reminder that she’s in control.

“Florida—“

Before I can say any more, Stephen interrupts me and starts talking to Celine. “When she first walked in,” he says as he gestures to me, “She told me that she married Killian. That changes everything, Celi. There’s no reason for you to follow through with your plan now.”

I gape at him in shock as I wonder how the hell he knows that I’m married since I never said a word.

If I thought she was pissed before, that’s nothing compared to the look on her face now.

“You stupid fucking cunt! You married him?”

I nod wordlessly as I try to figure out why she cares. Coming across the room at me, she grabs my hand and lifts it up.